Arms of An Angel
by Bookworm210
Summary: Angel, little sister of Clockwork, is a handful of a ghost. Just ask Ghostwriter. He's had about three billion heart attacks from the stunts she makes him do with her. GW/OC
1. Prologue

_**Arms of An Angel**_

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Danny Phantom or the characters. I only own Angel and the plot line.**

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The 6-year-old ghost sat in her room, on her bed, humming as she read a book tilted Legends of the Ghost Zone. Her free hand fiddled with her necklace, a worn silver chain with an equally worn silver clock charm, occasionally reached down to turn the yellowing pages. Her room was simple; a bed stuck in the corner, three and a half walls hidden by large black bookshelves, filled with things ranging from records of random ghosts, to old scrolls she'd received from Author, the current librarian.

A desk was across the room from her bed, sitting neatly. Papers were stacked and placed in drawers, on the black oak wood, and around the sides on her deep blue carpet. The wallpaper that was visible was covered in drawings, from water colors to markers to spray paint. Some were of what humans described angels to look like, some were of thunder storms raining down on calm meadows, some were of random things she didn't really have a comment for.

She finally reached the end of the book and smiled, closing it and placing it on the bed. Standing, she stretched her arms above her head, enormous black wings spreading out beside her. She was glad she had a large room, or else she'd never be able to stretch them.

No I'm not joking or delusional.

Large black angel wings, feathers and all, sprouted from her shoulder blades. She had extremely pale skin, long black hair that reached her waist, and glowing purple eyes. Fangs donned her teeth, elvish ears adding to her appearance. A deep gray dress flowed from her shoulders to her bare feet, stopping just at her ankles.

She grabbed her book from the bed and held it against her chest. Folding her wings to her back, she stepped toward her shelves, grabbing a few scrolls she had finished. She figured Author might need them. They were full of historical facts on the Ghost Zone after all. And she really just wanted to get out of her room. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, slipping through the small space and gently closing it. She could have just gone intangible, but she preferred to act human, never really getting used to the whole ghost thing. She liked the wings, though. And flying wasn't all that bad either.

Carefully tiptoeing past the many doors in the hallway that contrasted against her bright white oak wood door, she breathed a sigh off relief when she reached the corner. Though that sigh was quickly lost in her throat when she turned her head and met a single, extremely large green eye.

She covered her mouth to muffle a shriek as she jumped back. The Observant chuckled to himself and straightened. Other than his personality, the only difference he kept from his brethren was the long, pinkish scar that went diagonally across his eye (he'd never tell how he got it), earning her so original nickname, Scar, from her. He was much more fair and generous than the other green ghosts, but he was also quite a sarcastic ass, and he knew it. Along with being her teacher for any and all random powers that would pop up for her at the least expected times.

"And where do you think you're going, Angel?" he rumbled, folding his clawed hands behind his back. That's about the only thing she liked about her Guardians and brother's employers; they had claws. Angel rolled her eyes, picking up a scroll she'd dropped when Scar scared her. "Just to Author's library. Gotta give back some stuff." Scar's eye half-closed in boredom, as if asking 'that's it?' before he rolled his green orb and floated out of the way, gesturing with his clawed hand for her to go.

"Thanks." Angel gave a nod to Scar and walked past him to the end of the hall. She glanced back to see her mentor gone before a mischievous grin spread cross her face. Bringing a deep breath in through her nose, she shut her eyes tight and concentrated, grinning even wider when she felt herself hit new terrain; from the hard, cold tile of the Observatory to the soft, grass-like rug of Author's library.

She opened her eyes, her grin turning into a small smile. She loved this place. It was much better than the old, dusty Observatory. She carefully placed the book and scrolls on a random table, wings twitching as she looked around.

Author, in all his scraggly glory, appeared from around a bookshelf. His black hair was a complete mess, sticking up in random directions. His green eyes were wide and inviting, along with his extremely pale (even for a ghost) skin. His black jacket was tied around his waist by the sleeves. He wrinkled black dress pants, unpolished dress shoes and a very unprofessional white t-shirt that was worn from age. Stubble spotted his chin, along with a good amount of scars on his arms and face. It was hard to believe he was such a serious writer. He was absorbed in a book he held in his hands, eyes twitching side to side as he read. He glanced up at the she-ghost and smiled at her. She gave a nod and Author went back to his book, turning a page casually as he pulled something out from the pocket of his t-shirt. Holding it out to Angel, Author didn't even look up from his book. She gingerly took it and watched him walk away before curiously looking down at what he gave her.

The ghost's ear twitched, causing her to turn from the object and look at the doors. An extremely clumsy looking and scrawny boy was pushing the door closed behind him. She blinked, taking in his purple-blue tinted skin, bright green eyes, pointy teeth and elvish ears. Everything he wore was gray, even the scarf, though he wore black dress shoes and a long purple jacket. Glasses donned his face, and he had this stupid little grin. He looked her age, maybe a year or so older.

Her wings dropped and hit the ground with a low thump! as she covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. The boy jumped and looked over at her, green eyes wide. Angel bounced over to him, grinning as his ears turned pink. "Hiya. I'm Angel. Who're you?" she asked, folding her hands behind her back and leaning toward the boy. Her wings perked up; what they did when she was happy or amused.

The blushed traveled from the boy's ears to his cheeks as he leaned away. "G-G-Ghostwriter." he stuttered, swallowing. He hated when girls talked to him. It always got him all blushy and nervous.

"Well, G-G-Ghostwriter, what're you doing here?" Angel tilted her head, purple eyes glinting with curiosity. Ghostwriter let out a little laugh as her mock of his stuttering. "Looking for books." he answered, blush fading slightly. "Well that's no fun." Angel put a hand to her chin, thinking. Suddenly she snapped her fingers, "Hey, I know! You've got a scarf on, let's go visit my friend Klemper!"

She suddenly grabbed his hand and dragged him back out the doors. Ghostwriter's blush, which had just gone away, exploded to an undiscovered shade of red as he spluttered awkwardly, earning a smirk from Angel.

Author watched his nephew being dragged by the girl, shaking his head and smiling. He was no Clockwork, but he had an idea where this was going to go in the future.

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**Little Ghostwriter, oh my gosh. =3 He's so cute.**

**Yeah, I gave Klemper a friend. YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? This took many times of rewriting and deleting to find a good intro. I figured Angel and G should be friends for a****_long_****while, and c'mon. Ghostwriter couldn't have been the librarian****_all _****that time. There had to be someone before him. So meet G's uncle, Author :D I broke the reply button on YouTube while trying to find a song for this freaking story. In the Arms of An Angel gave me a title and ending idea, but that song is too damn sad. So, back to the search.**

**My first idea was them being super close and stupid cause they'd always blush around each other. My second idea was Angel and G having an arranged marriage 'cause the Observants wanted a person to take over the Time Stream when Clocky 'retired' but since CW ain't got kids... My third idea was Angel suddenly finding out Author had a son (I like the uncle idea better) and hating him but eventually they'd get together. So here's my fourth idea. Blagh.**

**And this is probably the longest AN I've ever written... Oh well. Review and stay tuned!**

**~ Bookworm210**


	2. Of Icy Cliffs and Annoying Hunters

_**Arms of An Angel**_

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Danny Phantom or the characters. I only own Angel and the plot line.**

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A 22-year-old, grinning, black-haired, winged and fanged girl hung over the edge of an icy cliff, laughing melodically down at the panicking man, who clung to a ledge on the cliff like his afterlife depended on it.

And he very well thought it did.

"Aw, come on G! If you fall I'll just catch you." said the girl, placing her chin in her hand and letting her arm hang over the side of the cliff, a cocky smirk making itself at home on her lips. G, otherwise known as The Ghostwriter, looked up at her and glared, sharp teeth slightly bared. "You were the one that pushed me in the first place!" he retorted, to which the girl shrugged and switched her arms' positions. "Not my fault you're a late bloomer. By the way, I'm you best friend for like, _18_ _years _and you just now decide to tell me you can't fly yet?" she raised and eyebrow, lifting her chin and letting her other arm hang with the first one. "It never came up!" defended her best friend, returning his gaze down the the _very, very, very far away _ground of The Far Frozen, which was where the two currently were.

"Ohhh, so _this _is why you chicken out of all the _awesome _tricks I always do! I just thought you were - ironically - afraid of heights." she snickered, kicking her legs in the air. "They are not 'awesome', they are extremely dangerous, now help me up Angel!" Ghostwriter yelled, looking from the girl to the ground and back again. Though the third time, _she wasn't there. _

"Boo." a voice suddenly said, causing Ghostwriter to leap into the air, scrambling helplessly for the ledge he held moments before. Though he didn't fall, because the moment he moved downward a tug came at his neck. Angel had caught him by the scarf. The young author let out a shaky squeak of relief before Angel's - upside down - head popped into his vision, her long black hair hanging from her head and her necklace dangling on one side of her face. "Honestly," she said, one eyebrow raised with a more-of-a-smile-than-a-smirk, "You think I'd let you fall?"

Though Ghostwriter didn't answer, only stared with wide eyes behind Angel's head. The she-ghost turned her head in confusion, and only had about two second to move her and her best friend out of the way of an electronic arrow. "Sweet time stream!" Angel blurted, to which she slapped a hand over her mouth with wide eyes. She whirled, making Ghostwriter yell, to see none other than the pain in the ass Skulker standing on the ground below them, notching another arrow.

An extremely loud and foreign curse let itself free from Angel's lips. She promptly turned and flew, wings beating violently as Ghostwriter yelled all the way. "Oh for the love of-" Angel growled, stopping momentarily and tossing her friend in the air with all the strength she could muster. Ghostwriter flailed, screaming his lungs out as he got a good 30 feet above Angel, stopped, and fell once again. This time Angel caught him bridal style (which was very embarrassing for the 23-year-old), and took off again.

The she-ghost's glowing purple eyes narrowed in determination. "Hang on, G!" she yelled, even though she knew his arms couldn't get any tighter around her neck, and put on a burst of speed, tucking her wings in and spinning, flying through a narrow space between two frozen trees and shooting her wings out again. She glanced over her shoulder to see the trees blown apart, Skulker's giant form coming from the smoke moments later. Angel cursed again, and flapped her wings vigorously, baring her fangs as she gained altitude. Of course he'd use his time before the Christmas Truce to hunt her, she apparently was his prize objective (other than the new halfa she'd got an quite an ear-full about from Scar (she didn't know why)). "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." she muttered to herself, black spots starting to dance around her vision.

"Angel!" Ghostwriter yelled at the strained look on her face, before he looked where she stared. A sparking, purple portal was starting to open about 20 yards above them, and suddenly the young author knew why she was so tired. Though it didn't look stable, the portal was their only escape, and he prayed they'd get there before Skulker got them... 15 yards... 10... 5... Come on!

His prays went unanswered.

Angel's wings slowed to a stop, and her hold on him slackened. Ghostwriter's green eyes snapped to her's, only to find they were closed. "Angel!" he shrieked, letting his arms release from her neck as slowly, she started to fall, him soon after. Ghostwriter flailed on instinct, but he didn't scream, only frantically swiveled his head when he turned away from Angel's falling form. Her hair whipped around her unconscious face, her wings limply flying upward by her sides. Ghostwriter desperately hoped her eyes would flicker open, and she'd grin at him, laughing and saying it was all a joke.

That didn't happen.

He screamed her name again, and again and again.

No reply.

He looked up at the portal, which was still sparking and open but slowly closing. The young author turned his head back to his best friend for 18 years, and his face set in determination. Ghostwriter tucked his arms in like he'd always see Angel do in a dive during one of her tricks, and grinned to himself when he caught up with Angel. Dodging her wings, he grabbed his friend in pulled her in a hug-like hold, closing his eyes and chanting in his head the one word he had to do _**now.**_

Focus, focus, focus.

His eyes shot open, and suddenly the two were rocketing toward the portal. A large, purple flash blinded everyone within range, and suddenly Skulker's prey was gone, along with the portal.

.

.

.

It was dark. Why was it dark? Were her eyes closed? Probably. Her back hurt. And her head. And especially her wings. Why did she hurt? The last thing she remembered was flying away from Skulker with Ghostwriter and then-

GHOSTWRITER!

She sat bolt upright, eyes wide, and immediately her back and head yelled at her for moving so quickly. Though she didn't pay attention, only frantically looked around the room. And suddenly spotted something that both relieved her and scared her.

Her big brother, Clockwork, floated across the room from her, one hand holding his staff and the other covering his face. She could tell he wanted to bang his head on something. And Ghostwriter, in all his geeky glory, was going full out nerd on the Time Master, running around like a chicken with its head cut off as he spouted question after question (I read about you in the Legends of the Ghost Zone book! Can you really manipulate time? Did you know Leonardo Da Vinci? How old are you? (She snorted at that one)).

Kicking her legs off the cot she was placed in, Angel slowly stood up. Her legs shook, and she almost tripped over herself, though she smiled when she felt the cold but comforting tile under her bare feet. The Observants hadn't let her go to her brother's clock tower in a while, much to Scar and Clockwork's disliking, so she enjoyed each visit she got.

Shakily making her way over to her brother, she watched Ghostwriter have his geek fit. Angel crossed her arms, smirking, and said, "You get used to it after a while."

Clockwork's hand dropped from his face and he glanced at her, his form shifting to "Baby New Year" as she liked to call it as he copied her smirk. "Even Author wasn't like this when he figured it out." answered the Time Master, to which Angel laughed before she turned her attention to the still nerding Ghostwriter. "G. G, come on dude. G!" Angel yelled. The young author's attention turned to her, standing next to the all powerful Master of Time, and silenced quickly.

Now, Clockwork and Angel didn't have many similarities, despite the two being different gender versions of each other if they had ever been alive. But as Ghostwriter really took the time to study them, he noticed they had the same smirk, and the same mischievous glint in their eyes. And, well, it didn't take much longer than that for the most insane theory he'd ever had to pop into his head.

"You're _siblings _with the _Time Master?_" he blurted, arms hanging limply by he sides as he gaped at the brother and sister. Clockwork raised an eyebrow and looked to Angel as his form shifted to an adult. "Surprise...?" the black-haired girl said pathetically, raised her arms and shaking her hands 'ta da' gesture. "Nice to know I'm so loved." her brother muttered playfully, and at this Angel shoved his arm while he laughed at her.

Needless to say, Scar choose that moment to (rather showily) burst through the main doors of the clock tower, his single green eye narrowed and blazing with fury. "**ANGEL!**" he bellowed the moment his gaze landed on the girl, "**WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?**"

"Here we go." Clockwork mumbled, rolling his eyes as Angel shrunk back slightly. Scar may have been much more kind and fair than the other Observants, but he could be really scary when he wanted to be. She felt like she was 5 again, caught snatching one of her mentor's scrolls when his back was turned. But this time, he was much more angry.

Ghostwriter stood, frozen, as he stared at the legendary entity before him. The Observant stalked, so to speak, toward Angel, clawed fists shaking by his sides. "You could have gotten yourself captured, or worse, killed!" Scar roared. Clockwork scowled at his choice of words as Ghostwriter winced and Angel shrunk back further, "You can barely make a portal big enough for a _scroll_ to fit through, much less yourself! You are in so much trouble when we get back to the Observatory, you were supposed to stay in your room with your studies! You are extremely lucky your friend was there to save you, or else you would be unconscious on the ground of the Far Frozen!"

A light blushed dusted Ghostwriter's cheeks, and he fiddled with his hands as he stuttered awkwardly. No matter how many years he'd known Angel, his face would go crimson sooner or later. "I can teleport!" Angel objected. "That takes more energy than the portal!" Scar threw his arms in the air, and if he had a face he'd look exasperated. Which he was. That and frustrated. And (though he would never admit it) rather relieved Angel hadn't injured herself too badly.

"If I could do it when I was six I can do it now!" Angel argued, regaining her posture and narrowing her own eyes. "You were much smaller then! It was easier to carry yourself!" Scar countered, and finally Angel let out an exasperated sound, shoving past Scar and stomping out of the clock tower. Ghostwriter made a noise and gestured after her a few times, before finally dropping his hands and scurrying after the girl. Clockwork raised an eyebrow, slightly chuckling to himself, before Scar shot him a glare and in the blink of an eye (no pun intended) was gone.


End file.
